


now the sun is up and i'm going blind

by that_1_incident



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F, but i stand by it, this ended up more wistful than i'd initially intended, unrequited feelings probably, who can say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 01:10:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19819432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_1_incident/pseuds/that_1_incident
Summary: Although they've been acquainted for years, it takes their daughters' obsession with pinning Alison's murder on Ian for Ashley and Veronica to finally sit down together, conversing over glasses of the most expensive wine Ashley had on hand - wine that probably still doesn't meet Veronica's usual standards.(Loosely based on the first third of "Pretty Little Liars" season 2.)





	now the sun is up and i'm going blind

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Delilah" by Florence + the Machine; thank you very much to [skatingsplits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatingsplits) for the perfect suggestion!

"It's surprising that something like this had to happen for us to finally exchange more than pleasantries," Veronica comments, delicately cupping a glass from the Marins' kitchen cabinet in her no-doubt expensively moisturized hands.

Ashley permits herself a wry laugh, twines her fingers around the long stem of her glass, and regards Veronica from under her eyelashes. "It always seemed like you and Peter weren't particularly interested in socializing with divorcees." 

Veronica purses her lips and has the grace to appear mildly discomfited. "Please; if there's one thing I've learned from this fiasco, it's that people who live in the Hastings house shouldn't throw stones." 

Ashley quirks an eyebrow. "Hanna usually calls it Hastings Manor." 

"Well," Veronica parries smoothly as if Ashley's response had somehow underscored her point, "there you go."

Ashley smiles tightly, feeling equal parts mystified and determined not to show it. "I suppose," she allows vaguely. "Speaking of Hanna, I really hate to isolate her from her friends after the year she's had."

Veronica sighs, and - for the first time since she stepped across the Marin threshold - Ashley sees genuine concern on her face. "I feel the same about Spencer." She takes a quick breath, sits up even straighter (something Ashley wouldn't have thought possible), and asks intently, "Do you blame my daughter?"

Ashley feels her forehead crease involuntarily and begins to mentally count the days since her last Botox appointment. She can honestly say that inculpating Spencer had never occurred to her - whatever part Spencer may have played in fueling Hanna's delusions, Hanna surely reciprocated in kind. 

Apparently satisfied by the sincere perplexity on Ashley's face, Veronica relaxes her posture ever so slightly and says softly, "Good."

"Do you blame _my_ daughter?" Ashley asks, just to be sure.

"Of course not." Veronica exhales slowly, measuredly, and Ashley can practically see the pedigree seeping out of every pore. "But their little quartet is unlikely to view this forced separation as anything other than a punishment." 

When Ashley huffs out a sigh of her own, she can't help noticing that - like everything else about herself - the way she breathes is less old-money, more nouveau riche. "I would've had a meltdown if my parents tried to do that to me." Veronica looks at her searchingly, prompting her to mentally replay her words, and once it appears the other woman isn't going to elaborate, she queries uncertainly, "You wouldn't have?" 

Veronica shrugs with one shoulder - a small, dignified motion Ashley assumes she learned in finishing school. "I tended to keep to myself. My college applications were less well-rounded than Spencer's will be; I spent most of my teen years with my nose buried in a book." She smiles ruefully. "Although I suspect I'd've been quite skilled at lacrosse, my boarding school only had a men's team."

"Really?" Between her frayed nerves and her light lunch, Ashley must've been more affected by the wine than usual - or that's the best way she can think to justify what she asks next, which rather unfortunately ends up being, "How old _are_ you?"

She wonders for a tense couple of seconds whether Veronica might get up and leave on the spot from the indignity of it all, but the other woman simply looks surprised for a moment before chuckling quietly. It's a rich sound, deep and throaty, and Ashley resists the urge to bite her lip. 

"Private schools were the last bastion of equal rights in the sporting arena," Veronica volunteers by way of explanation, traces of mirth lingering in her voice. "Or on the lacrosse field, I suppose."

Her mind muddled by wine and worry and the pleasing warmth of Veronica's laughter, Ashley manages to settle on a safe rejoinder: "Well, I'm glad Spencer has more opportunities available to her." 

Veronica's grin fades, and the mention of Spencer serves as an abrupt reminder of the reason they're sitting together in Ashley's kitchen in the first place, conversing over glasses of the most expensive wine Ashley had on hand - wine that probably still doesn't meet Veronica's usual standards. Catching the other woman's eye, Ashley offers what she hopes is a brave, kind smile. Veronica hesitates, then smiles back. 

\--

The day after their tête-à-tête, Ashley's ex-husband shows up astride his white horse in Hanna's time of need, seeming blissfully unaware that his daughter a) outright hates him and b) has felt this way for a while now. To add insult to injury, the manner in which he's looking at his former wife implies he feels it's nothing less than her duty to get him up to speed on the latest Rosewood happenings - and, for the love of her daughter, she obliges.

As soon as Ashley gets to the part about Veronica spearheading the decision to keep their daughters apart for the foreseeable future, the incredulous expression on Tom's face makes her pause, at which point he immediately fills the silence with a disbelieving, "...And you're OK with that?" 

Ashley doubts he could've been more shocked if she'd announced her intention to ceremonially burn her entire handbag collection in the backyard. "Peter and Veronica have the best connections in Rosewood, not to mention the deepest pockets. Why shouldn't they foot the bill?"

Tom's brow furrows. "I guess it does look like Spencer's at the center of this whole thing."

Recalling her discussion with Veronica about not placing blame on each other's daughters, Ashley shifts her weight from one heel to the other. "I'm not sure it's that simple," she counters quietly. 

Tom either doesn't hear her or ignores her outright. "So you think this Hastings-approved shrink'll get Hanna straightened out?"

"Hanna doesn't need to be straightened," Ashley retorts unthinkingly; when Tom lets out a guffaw, she rolls her eyes.

"Speaking of - how about _Emily_ , huh? You think that'll stick?" He's grinning altogether too delightedly, and Ashley feels more annoyed than she's been in a while.

"I don't think we have the right to speculate," she says shortly, intending to hold up a mirror to his inappropriate glee, but he fobs her off with a shrug of dismissal.

"I'm not speculating, Ashley, I just didn't think she was the type." 

\--

Reflecting on Tom's words over a glass of wine and a Danielle Steel novel, Ashley observes with a note of amusement that _she_ doesn't seem like the type either; after all, she never even told her ex-husband about how she and her college roommate blurred the lines between friendship and something deeper during the second semester of their sophomore year.

She laughs softly to herself, then takes another sip of wine.

\--

Despite long work hours and conflicting family commitments that make it nigh-on impossible to schedule another sit-down at Ashley's kitchen table, Veronica manages to show more concern for Hanna than the girl's own father had in months (Tom's recent surprise appearance notwithstanding). Although Ashley understands that much of the other woman's concern is likely rooted in the tight entanglement of Hanna and Spencer's lives, she's felt like the only person concerned about her daughter's well-being for so long that she welcomes any opportunity to share the load. 

\--

When the news breaks of Ian's (second) untimely passing, Ashley doesn't know where to put her emotions. More precisely, she realizes, she hadn't grasped the full impact of Alison's murder until there was suddenly nothing to fear - no faceless, nameless threat hanging ever-present in the Rosewood air, whispering its malevolence on the breeze. Since Alison vanished the previous year, memorizing Hanna's outfits before leaving for work in the morning had become as instinctive to Ashley as breathing; now, with the case closed and the villainous perpetrator no longer of this world, she's unsure what to do with her lingering nervous energy.

Moreover, she hasn't heard from Veronica since Ian's body was discovered, and while it feels silly to admit it, Ashley misses the other woman's painstakingly perfect texts - the conscientious capitalization, the way every carefully crafted missive is concluded with a period. In contrast, Ashley's copious typos would go almost completely unaddressed if not for the autocorrect function on her phone (which, she's beginning to understand, is definitely more intelligent than she is).

\--

From assuming Hanna would stay out of her shoe collection to "borrowing" a not-inconsequential amount of money from a client's safe-deposit box and unwittingly making her daughter an accomplice after the fact, Ashley will admit to making her fair share of mistakes as a mother. That said, by far her biggest parental transgression to date was subscribing to the notion of Hanna and her friends becoming embroiled in some sort of group delusion over simply believing her daughter. The only thing that so much as infinitesimally assuages her guilt is knowing she didn't come to this conclusion alone, that the parents of Aria and Emily and Spencer were right there with her - caught up, she supposes, in a group delusion of their own.

\--

Ashley's the one to break the silence in spite of herself, composing an unusually thought-out text message with which she endeavors to strike a palatable balance between caring concern and respectful detachment during the Hastings' difficult time. Almost immediately, her phone lights up with a call.

"It's not OK that I didn't believe Spencer, and it's not OK that I allowed a monster in my house," Veronica announces without any of the usual pleasantries, sounding utterly wracked with guilt, and Ashley curls up on the couch, shifting into listening mode as she tucks her socked feet underneath her. She can hear the faint sounds of kitchen miscellany in the background, of cabinets closing and cutlery clinking, and she realizes that Veronica - not unlike herself - turns to soothing organizational rituals in times of trouble. 

"I think the only thing left to do now is apologize," she says frankly once Veronica trails off in anguish. "They're old enough to understand that although we may be their parents, we're also human beings, and human beings make mistakes."

There's a long pause on the other end of the line, and Ashley takes this to mean that Veronica's considering the suggestion until a soft, choking gasp makes her think otherwise. 

"The important thing is how you handle it from here," Ashley continues quietly, using a modified version of the sympathetic tone she can't help but slip into whenever Hanna's in tears. "They know we can't turn back the clock and make it right, so it's what we do next that really matters." 

"Did you learn that from your parents?" Veronica's inquiry sounds more reminiscent of making conversation at a charity luncheon than trying not to cry, and Ashley does her best to ignore the husky sound of the other woman's unshed tears.

"Like most things in life, I taught it to myself."

\--

The next time Ashley sees Veronica is at Ian's funeral. 

It's a typical Hastings affair - lavish yet understated, expensive without being ostentatious - and if Peter's clenched teeth and fierce glower are anything to go by, he's none too pleased about footing the bill. Beside him, Melissa sobs uncontrollably, Spencer stands stoic and impassive, and Veronica… well, the best word Ashley can come up with to describe her demeanor is _blank_. 

It strikes Ashley that the Hastings family seems astonishingly disconnected, with each member grieving (or otherwise) in his or her solitary manner. Thinking back, she recalls feeling similarly divorced from the proceedings at her own father's funeral a few years earlier - which, she supposes, was hardly surprising, given that he'd died nearly three decades after she left without looking back, focused instead on cultivating a safe distance from the town in general and the toxicity of her biological relatives in particular. Consequently, Ashley's almost dreamlike return consisted of little more than going through the motions on autopilot, her mind's eye firmly trained on the fantasy of walking away from the gravesite and summarily screeching off in the fanciest car to have driven through those parts in years (a 2008 Mercedes that, incidentally, appeared positively shabby by Rosewood standards).

\--

With Hanna electing to stand beside Aria and Emily for the duration of Ian's sendoff, Ashley's left to hover rather awkwardly next to Ella. Her view marginally obscured by the back of Veronica's head, Ashley watches as Spencer throws a flower onto the casket and tries not to notice the slight twitch of a muscle in Veronica's jaw. Before she knows it, she finds herself reaching out to touch the other woman's elbow. 

Following a momentary jolt that causes Ashley's breath to catch in her throat, Veronica glances over her shoulder. When their eyes meet, the way her gaze softens makes Ashley feel warm inside. 

\--

Having Emily as a houseguest has been nothing short of a delight for Ashley; the girl is sweet and kind, does her homework without being reminded, and perpetually volunteers to wash the dishes no matter how many times she's told not to worry about it. 

All of which is to say that upon accidentally interrupting Emily and Samara kissing in the front hallway, Ashley's gratified to offer a reassuring smile intended to double as a wordless answer to the fearful question in Emily's eyes. The subsequent no-girlfriends-in-the-bedroom talk feels no more awkward than the boyfriend equivalent she'd had with her daughter, and she silently marvels over how much things have changed since she was their age. While she certainly doesn't regret her time with Tom (it yielded Hanna, if nothing else), she can't seem to stop herself from wondering: Would she still have married into the Marin family if she'd felt empowered to explore every option that called to her? And if she and her college roommate had seen any way forward other than permanently ceasing communication as soon as the semester ran its course, would they have remained friends - or something more - to this day? 

Feeling fleetingly emboldened by Emily's example, she picks up her phone to text Veronica; then, with her heart thumping alarmingly in her chest, she thinks twice and sets it down.


End file.
